


He did his best, let his soul rest

by HannahBuns



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Corpses, Floris | Fundy-centric, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Kinda, Leaves from the vine, No Romance, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sorry Not Sorry, Tags May Change, Tommyinnit actually cares for them, Wilbur Soot Lives, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur Soot-centric, Wilbur angst, description of corpses, too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahBuns/pseuds/HannahBuns
Summary: The second chapter of this fic will include some things that are heavily, heavily inspired by something two of my very good friends said in a gc on Discord.The second chapter will be posted very soon! In the meanwhile, please check out my friend's instagram accounts! They're both very talented at art, writing, and.. well, almost everything. Love them both platonically.https://www.instagram.com/smol_amount_of_logic/ -   smol_amount_of_logichttps://www.instagram.com/thelightofserenity/ -    thelightofserenity
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter of this fic will include some things that are heavily, heavily inspired by something two of my very good friends said in a gc on Discord.  
> The second chapter will be posted very soon! In the meanwhile, please check out my friend's instagram accounts! They're both very talented at art, writing, and.. well, almost everything. Love them both platonically.  
> https://www.instagram.com/smol_amount_of_logic/ - smol_amount_of_logic  
> https://www.instagram.com/thelightofserenity/ - thelightofserenity

Closing your eyes, 

an action that he has loathed and dreaded to do for a long, long time. Doing it resulted in a dingy, jet black abyss immersing him whole. A gnawing, punishing pain would hit him, almost like a storm. Even so, he darted in front of his father, letting the sharp, enchanted sword strike him instead. 

He shut his eyes and waited.

In mere seconds, the excruciating pain came. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of Techno's gleaming red eyes going back to their usual black colour. He saw the hint of guilt in them. Only for a moment, though. He weakly smiled as the world titled, and everybody suddenly became more towering. The only thing he could see although he could barely register was the dark, cloudy sky, and the oh-so-familiar face of his father. Fundy felt warm arms wrap around his body, delicately pulling him close to him like he was a fragile porcelain doll. He bit back a pained scream and only let out a cough, small droplets of blood coming out of his mouth. Said blood trickled down his chin, staining his pallid skin red.

''Fundy- oh my god. Why in the living hell would you do that? You-''

Wilbur lets out a breathy exhale. His body trembled as he held his son, the blood Fundy lost was all over his arms and clothes, but he didn't care. Not when he knew who's blood it was. 

''M' sorry,'' Fundy began. His speech slurred, and he needed every ounce of strength to finish saying those two words. Still, with the little power he had left, he began speaking once again. ''I promise I wasn't trying to hurt you, d-dad... I wanted to protect you. I wanted you to be proud of me. I guess I failed at that, too. I g-guess I...'' 

Fundy sighed as a sad smile appears on his face. He couldn't finish the sentence. Not that he wanted to, if he were honest. He lets himself relax, and he lets the shine from his eyes disappear. Finally, he gets to rest.

.

.

.

''F-Fundy? Hey, buddy, are you okay?''

''Fundy- Fundy, c-can.. can you hear me?''

''Son!''

.

.

.

_ Leaves from the vine _

_ Changing so slow _

.

.

.

''Son, come on now. It's not the right to be fooling around. We still have to help the others, yea? Come on, son... w-wake up..''

.

.

.

_ Like empty, fallen souls _

_ Looking for a home. _

.

.

.

''Please, please, please...'' Wilbur pleaded, tapping Fundy's cheek, ANYTHING to get some reaction from his son. ''Who's going to help me cook dinner tonight? I know you love helping me, bud. W-we need to go hunting too.. We gotta get some food to cook. You always went hunting with me... G-Get up now, yea, so we can... s-so we can... Spend some time together again. Come on m-my...''

.

.

.

_ Little soldier boy _

_ Thought that he could soar _

_ Brave soldier boy _

.

.

.

Wilbur's tears stream down his cheek. He held the cold, lifeless body close, wrapping his arms around it. He grasped his son tightly, protectively.

''..My little champion.'' 

.

.

.

_ Died in their war. _


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy squinted as the dust settles, and he could see more distinctly what was ahead of him. He observed as the others, friend and foe, walk around the now-ruinous area of their home. Each of them looked down at the ground, cautious as to not drop into a pit. He began hobbling forward, and the slight limp to his strides was quite noticeable. Still, he made his way past the massive holes, covering his mouth. Although there wasn't a whole lot of dust in the air, the powerful gusts of wind that would come by would raise the dust which he would then inhale. It was annoying him plenty. 

After what felt like years of walking, limping and avoiding pits, yet it was a few minutes, he reaches the person most dear to him right now. Wilbur Soot. He noticed the familiar form of Fundy's big, bushy tail and his hand with the razor-sharp claws still extended, but he also noticed that both of them were on the grimy ground. ''Oy, Wil, tell Fundy to get up. We have lots of shit to do,'' Tommy claimed, waiting for a response from his older brother. He crossed his arms and began limping towards him. ''Come on, Wil, get your arse-''

_ Blood. _

''Jesus, Wil, what happened? Why is there- why are...''

He inhales, trying to keep his hands from shaking.  _ Why? What happened? This has to be some sort of sick, pathetic joke, right?  _

''Wilbur, stop it. Tell Fundy to get up we-we have things to do. He can't- he can't be sleeping right now. Please.."

His vision dimmed, and without even comprehending it, the hot, salty tears start coming. 

Why, out of all times, did this have to happen now? He's never cared for Fundy. He barely talked to him, and he never had anything to do with them. So why now. Why did he show remorse towards him now? He's continuously mocked him, hurt him, or yelled at him. Tommy was never concerned for, and never even cared for Fundy. Yet his senses are blurred, and deep, genuine care had taken over.

''W-Wilbur, let him go.''

''No,'' Wilbur replied instantly. His grasp on his son's body only tightened, and he held it close to him, just like has for the past hour. ''Wilbur, c-come on- we have so many things to do. We have to- we have to go now.'' 

His breath was shaky, and his body trembled like a leaf. The sweat on his forehead was becoming more and more noticeable. He doesn't know how to continue- he doesn't understand how he  _ should _ continue. He could not dwell on the death of his nephew. He didn't deserve to, not after the countless things he has done to him.

Tommy stared down at the dead body. ''Wilbur, come on. There's no time to dwell. We have lots of things to do, y-yea? Besides, he got to do one of the things he has always wanted to do,'' Tommy paused, attempting to pull himself together. ''He got to meet his mother.''


End file.
